


Only Fools (Do What I Do)

by iktwabrokenbone (apiculteur)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-11-05 04:59:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11006493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apiculteur/pseuds/iktwabrokenbone
Summary: Dan and Phil were used to fans saying they were together, coming up with countless theories and analysing their every touch. It didn’t bother them; neither of them thought of the other as anything more than just a friend. That is, until a joke Phil made was misinterpreted, and somehow Dan thought they were dating and it was all Phil’s fault. Breaking up with Dan was going to be hard, though, and Phil didn’t want to ruin their friendship. Things were spiralling out of control.[now with an epilogue!!]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi so this is an old thing i wrote forever ago as part of pbb which u might?? have read on [my tumblr that i no longer use](http://lolester.tumblr.com/post/131819475087/only-fools-do-what-i-do). i was planning to post my other phanfics but like,,, im not happy enough w them. if yall wanna read them theyre on my tumblr.
> 
> since this was part of pbb there is some art for it [here](http://warriorsofalicante.tumblr.com/post/132406856370/link-to-pbb-2015). i havent re-read this so i cant rly remember much but i rly enjoyed writing this, hope yall enjoy reading it.

It was strange, sometimes, to think that people thought that Dan and Phil were dating. It was no secret that Phil loved Dan- they were best friends, of course he did- but there was absolutely nothing romantic between them. To Phil, the suggestion itself was absurd. Their close friendship was too often misconstrued as something romantic. It sometimes made Phil uncomfortable, knowing that even just hugging Dan or lying across his lap would be seen as proof they were dating. As far as Phil could tell, plenty of people did that all the time. If they were both girls, no one would bat an eye at it.

It wasn’t the worst possible thing that could happen, though. Nowhere near. At most, it was an annoyance or an inconvenience, but often it didn’t affect him in the least. Only during videos did it mean he had to restrain himself, or in public places. Sometimes, Phil couldn’t help but find it funny.

It was sometime after midnight, and both Dan and Phil were still awake. It wasn’t late enough for them to retreat to their separate rooms, so Phil was sat on the opposite end of the couch to Dan. Both were scrolling through Tumblr, saying nothing to the other. Every now and then, one would laugh and turn the screen to show the other, but they didn’t speak apart from that.

Phil was checking his tag, which always ended up with him seeing something about the assumed nature of his and Dan’s relationship. In Phil’s latest YouNow, Dan had dropped in and they had mentioned the possibility of doing another collab together soon. Of course, that had spurred the phandom into theorising about what would happen. Already, he had seen two suggestions that it was going to be them coming out, or revealing they were getting married. Phil laughed quietly. The fans dedication to the idea of them dating never ceased to amaze him.

Dan looked up to him, questioning, but Phil just shook his head. “It’s nothing,” he said, instead of showing the screen to Dan like he expected. “Just some phan posts.”

Dan nodded. He didn’t laugh or roll his eyes like he often did. He was quiet, thoughtful. The night could do that to him, whether or not it was for the best. It would either end up with him filling his notebooks with video ideas, or having an existential crisis. Today, it leaned towards the latter. His mind was somewhere far away, his eyes fixed on a wall instead of a computer screen. Phil couldn’t help but wonder what it was about, no longer focussing on his Tumblr dash as much as he was Dan. He watched him, not meaning to, until he spoke.

“Do you ever think about us?” Dan asked after what must’ve been at least five minutes that had passed with no words shared between them.

“Uh, yeah? I mean, I am one of us. So, yeah,” Phil said, trying to blink his eyes into focus, to clear his brain of the idle fog. Even then, the question confused him, but he didn’t think too much into it. Dan was being indirect and vague, sure, but by now, Phil was used to it.

“No, I mean the way they think of us,” Dan said. “As in us dating.”

“Oh.” Phil wanted to blush. It wasn’t something that they spoke about often. An uncrossed line, something to ignore and dismiss. The one thing they didn’t discuss, too worried about making the other uncomfortable. “I guess? I mean, we’re not. We’re not dating. We’re just close friends.”

Dan bobbed his head, still somewhere else. “Yeah.”

“Why? Do you ever think about us, y’know, dating?” Phil asked.

They made eye contact, and Phil resisted the urge to look away. “I dunno, just thinking. And, yeah, sometimes.”

Dan elaborated no further, and it was a while before they next spoke. “Dan, do you want to go out with me?” Phil asked, equal parts genuinely curious and joking.

Dan looked up at him. “Are you asking me out, Phil Lester?” Dan laughed. “Because if you are, you’re not very romantic.”

Phil rolled his eyes, but Dan had settled his eyes on Phil’s socks. Eye contact wasn’t always a strong point of Dan’s. “Yeah, Dan. I think we should date,” Phil said, and now Dan looked up, unsure, like he didn’t know if he was joking anymore.

“Are you being serious?”

They were sitting on opposite ends of the sofa, but their eyes had met, and it was so intense. It felt physical, like Dan’s hand was on his shoulder, his breath on his face. Phil had never been good with high pressure situations. He had too often taken the blame for things he didn’t do just to avoid being questioned about it further, to avoid times like this, where he was unable to even swallow.

He regretted his answer before it even left his mouth.

“Yes.” It was dead serious, his nerves making it sound even more real. It left no way for Dan to mistake it for just him messing around. God, Phil wanted to scream at himself. This was wrong, so wrong, because he loved Dan, but he didn’t want to date him.

Before he could apologise and correct himself, Dan was pushing his laptop to the side, moving close to Phil. Dan climbed clumsily into his lap, and before Phil could react, their lips were pressed together in a sudden, but soft, kiss.

This was no joke. The fact that they were kissing meant that Dan did not see this as a joke, and Phil could not make excuses to get out of this. Oh, crap. Dan thought they were dating. Dan was kissing him and he thought they were dating. Since when did Dan like him in that way?

Phil didn’t notice that he was frozen below Dan’s touch until they broke apart, Dan pulling back to look at him. His lip was caught between his teeth, and he looked so young and vulnerable. It felt like they were back in 2009, when Dan had just gotten off the train and he wasn’t sure if they could hug. At the time, he still had his over-straightened emo hair, covering his face a bit more than it did now. It hadn’t done much to hide his blush, or the complete lack of eye contact. He had been smaller, both in height and bulk, and he almost looked fragile. Phil had wrapped his arms around him, hugging him so tight that Dan was complaining between laughs. He was much more comfortable after that, and Phil couldn’t help but compare it to now.

Right now, Dan looked even more terrified than he did back then, like he thought their friendship was ruined and now he had no clue what to do. Phil drew Dan close to him and kissed him, wanting to rid his face of that look. It was pretty much the same thing he had done all those years ago, there was nothing wrong with it. It didn’t matter if he didn’t like Dan in that way, because now Dan was beaming, his dimple showing. Their foreheads were pressed together, and Phil couldn’t regret it, not just yet, not when it made Dan this happy.

Despite how happy Dan looked in this moment, for Phil, the reality was beginning to set in. They were dating, and Phil didn’t want them to be. At some point, Phil was going to have to break up with Dan. Because of him, Dan would end up hurting, maybe crying. Seconds before, Dan had thought he ruined their friendship by kissing Phil. Now, Phil knew he had ruined their friendship by what he had done in the past five minutes.

Dan was still in his lap, but Phil gently shifted him off. It was difficult to muster a smile, knowing how ruined everything was now. "Um, I’m really tired. See you tomorrow?“ he said, standing up and not making eye contact.

"Well, yes, we probably will see each other tomorrow. We do live together,” Dan said. Phil could tell he was disappointed, but the smile was still stuck on his face.

Phil chuckled, trying his best to make it sound realistic. “Goodnight, Dan.” He pressed a kiss to Dan’s forehead and escaped to the seclusion of his room.

God, how was Phil going to deal with this? Why had he let his mouth run? If he had just shut up, or stopped himself from making a pointless joke about them dating, he wouldn’t be here. Why hadn’t he just said he was messing around before he misled Dan? Why hadn’t he just been honest rather than giving into pressure? Why hadn’t he admitted that he didn’t mean it after Dan pulled away from the kiss? It was only going to hurt Dan more the longer he left it. But he had looked so hurt when Phil didn’t kiss back, and Phil only wanted to make him happy.

Surely it couldn’t be that bad? If he just played along for a little longer, then he could pretend it wasn’t working out and break up with him. It would give Dan some closure, as well. It mustn’t have been fun for him, having to hide his crush on Phil for- however long. Not to say that this was a good thing. No. Phil still felt terrible, and knew he shouldn’t have done it. It was too late to turn back now, he would just have to play this through for a little longer.

Except he didn’t want to play a part, like he was some actor, to lie to Dan for weeks, only to finish by breaking his heart. If Phil knew someone was doing this to Dan- pretending to be in love with him, pulling at Dan’s heart strings like he was a puppet- well, Phil would almost hate them. And that wasn’t something he said lightly. He was all about forgiveness, but it just wasn’t right to do this. He knew it, and he wished he could think of a way to get out of this without hurting Dan.

But he couldn’t. He didn’t know how.

So, with the plan sorted out in his mind (that made him sound even more like he was intentionally using Dan) Phil went to sleep. He hadn’t been lying when he told Dan he was tired, but it took him a while to reach unconsciousness.

***

The next morning was the same as most mornings, almost. He woke up before Dan, got breakfast, and skimmed through whatever lame programmes were on TV until Dan arose to watch anime with him. It wasn’t that long before he was joining Phil. A part of him expected Dan to act different around him now, throwing him compliments and batting his eyelashes, but of course he didn’t. It was much like any other day, apart from a few minor differences.

Today, Dan was curled up closer to him and gave him a shy kiss, but they still had the same banter. A disgusting, tentacled creature came on screen, and Dan prodded Phil’s side then said, “Wow, look Phil, you’re in an anime!” They threw casual insults at each other and giggled at their own lame jokes. Nothing much had changed, but now Dan was more physically intimate.

In all honesty, it didn’t bother Phil too much. The cuddling was something Phil enjoyed, and whilst the lack of romantic attraction made the kisses unwanted, Dan was still a good kisser. Not that it went too far. Nothing longer than few seconds, nothing too deep. It made Phil wonder how far he could take this. Sex was obviously too far, as it would be taking advantage of Dan. Making out? Maybe. Phil would try to avoid it. Boundaries had to be drawn, that was for sure.

All of that brought up another, more important question: when should he break up with Dan? A week would be too short. A month? Much more than a month would be too much.

A month, then. Everything about this was wrong. Lying to Dan. Dating and kissing Dan. Being in a relationship that was doomed from the start, one with a clock ticking down the seconds until the end. All of Phil’s previous relationships had been based on love, on wanting to be close to someone and have them as his own.

A piece of Phil’s brain kept reminding him that he did love Dan, but he knew it wasn’t the same. When their mouths pressed together, Phil felt guilty and uncomfortable, not like he never wanted it to end. This may be love, but it wasn’t romantic love, not the type of love which Phil had promised to Dan by dating him. Loving Dan did not mean dating him was a good idea. Phil wished he could just ignore that. It would be so much easier to just enjoy dating Dan. In a way, he did enjoy dating Dan, but the guilt overwhelmed that.

***

Phil got pretty distracted by his relationship with Dan. Enough so for him to forget about his plan to film a video the day previous, and that PJ was coming over in an hour’s time. He only remembered when Dan mentioned it to him.

“Hey, Phil, what are we gonna say to PJ? About, you know?” he asked, motioning between the two of them. “I mean, do you wanna tell him we’re dating, or…?”

This wasn’t something Phil had ever considered. Not that he had been given long to think about it. This was only the second day of them ‘dating’. The term dating had to be used slightly loosely for their relationship, since Phil wasn’t even sure if this could be classed as dating. Sure, they kissed and they loved each other, but the romantic feelings were one-sided. Phil wondered if his mind would ever stop pointing that out to him every time thought about him and Dan dating.

(Yes, it would stop, because they would break up in a few weeks, and- Phil hated his mind.)

Dan kicked him in the leg, not hard enough to hurt, just to get his attention. “Phil? Do we tell him?” he repeated.

“Oh!” Phil jumped. “Uh, let him figure it out himself?” Of course, he would figure it out. PJ was Phil’s closest friend apart from Dan. There wasn’t much Phil could keep from him, least of all a relationship. Despite that, he would rather let him figure it out than tell him. It didn’t make much of a difference, but Phil wanted to avoid lying to PJ as well, as he would be doing if he said he was dating Dan. Or perhaps it wouldn’t be lying, but it would feel like it.

Things had been much simpler before Phil had messed it all up.

***

When PJ came over, Phil was half expecting Dan to no-homo it up. By now, they were used to acting straight. The entirety of 2012 was them clinging to an illusion of heterosexuallity, and keeping a good distance between each other, even off camera. After the video came out, neither of them were quite sure what the other was okay with. It was the weirdest time in their friendship, even more so than now. Now, if nothing else, they had a vague idea of where they stood and what was and was not acceptable.

Phil couldn’t help but be thankful when Dan still sat a bit too close to him, held his hand and pecked his cheek. This was better than pretending to be straight, at least. This was their new normal, for the next few weeks. Sometimes, if Phil ignored the way he was lying to Dan, he could enjoy this. Could just allow himself to think, “I am kissing a cute boy who is amazing and loves me and has really great lips.” It never lasted long before he had to tell himself, “I am not in love with him and he is my best friend.”

Maybe he felt frustrated by that. Maybe he wished he could turn back time to when they met, try to steer them towards something romantic. It might make things easier or better. Phil wasn’t even sure at this point. He just didn’t want to hurt Dan, and maybe resigning himself to dating him would be best.

Throughout his stay, PJ gave them funny looks. They had ordered pizza, and after playing a couple of board games together, they put on a film instead. Phil’s sleep schedule was already messed up, and he had taken longer than usual to fall asleep last night. It was understandable that he was resting his head on Dan’s shoulder; he was tired, after all. Dan kissed his forehead and linked their fingers together.

Phil didn’t want to say it, but this was almost perfect. Physical closeness with friends was always something he enjoyed, and he knew Dan did, too. Once or twice, Dan had mentioned that he liked platonic bed sharing, and Phil would sometimes make up excuses to sleep in his bed. It was cold, or he got scared by a horror movie (they both knew he was lying when he said that), or he just didn’t want to be alone. Dan always accepted it without question, but Phil never wanted to intrude into his personal space too much during the day.

It was nice, now that they could hold hands and cuddle up. It was one bonus of dating Dan.

Of course, PJ noticed the change in their relationship, and was giving them looks. If anything, he looked amused, though. Phil hadn’t been sure if he would get confused, or maybe frustrated about them not telling him. He should’ve known that PJ would just take it in his stride, continuing to joke with them. He didn’t bring it up at all, which Phil appreciated.

If Phil knew him, he would be getting a text about it after he left.

***

Since he had forgotten to film his video earlier in the week, Phil had done so that day. He always hated setting up the camera and lighting, just because it was time consuming and boring, but Dan helped him carry it to his bedroom. They usually helped the other set up if they were in, as they both understood the struggle, but Dan gave him a quick kiss before he left Phil alone for filming.

With every kiss, there was the strange combination of guilt and happiness. The fact that there was happiness mixed in there was confusing, but it wasn’t because he had romantic feelings for Dan- he didn’t. It was just the closeness to his friend that made him happy. If it was Peej or Bryony or any of Phil’s other friends, he would feel just the same, he was sure.

In any case, he was in a good mood for filming. His video was as upbeat as usual, and it didn’t take as long to film as it sometimes could. That was always a bonus. No matter how much he loved YouTube, it was irritating to say the same five lines over and over, trying not to stumble over his words.

He took a break before editing it, and was only fifteen minutes into editing when his phone started ringing. His screen displayed ‘Peej <3’, alongside a photo of him pulling a strange face.

“Hello?” Phil said.

“Hey Phil,” he said, sounding as cheery as usual. “Just wondering if you had anything to tell me.”

Phil laughed. Apparently, he knew PJ pretty well. As expected, he was confronting him about what was happening with Dan only after he had left. “Like what?” he asked.

“Oh, I don’t know…” he said, which roughly translated to, You and Dan were closer than usual and I know there’s something up with that. There was a smile in his voice, and he added, “You don’t have to say if you don’t want to, of course. Just curious, y’know?”

Phil appreciated the way out PJ gave him, even though it was plain to see that PJ wanted him to tell him. “Well, uh…” he paused, pretending he was trying to think of anything important he may want PJ to know. “Oh, now I think of it, yeah. Me and Dan are dating.”

PJ gasped loudly, the noise crackling over the phone line. “Really?” he exclaimed. “Who would’a guessed?”

Phil laughed, and the pit of his stomach churned horribly. He felt ill, and, god, he hated lying. He had never been good at it, and always avoided it as much as possible. It was amazing he had managed to go even just a few days lying to his best friend, especially when it was something so huge. Maybe it was just because they both wanted it to be the truth. He wasn’t sure, but talking about it with PJ wasn’t helping at all. He made some vague response to PJ, not going into any more depth than, “Well, probably.” The answer made no sense, but PJ was kind enough to ignore that.

“Anyway, what’s the haps with you?” he asked.

“I was actually editing a video.” Phil leaped on the opportunity to escape, not bothering to make it subtle that he wanted to leave.

“Okay, okay! I’ll leave you be. Lovely long chat with you, Phil,” he joked. “See ya.”

Phil returned the goodbye and hung up. When he got back to editing the video, it went slower than usual. He gave up after half an hour, during which he made little to no progress. Most days, he would have retreated to the living room, or pestered Dan to do something with him, but today he reclined on his bed.

He couldn’t be bothered. He didn’t want to lie and he didn’t want to edit his video. He just wanted to waste time doing nothing.

***

There was a text from PJ when Phil awoke. It didn’t say much, just, “call me whenever you want”. It almost tempted him to tell PJ, but he was afraid. He didn’t want to hurt Dan, and he didn’t want PJ to hate him. Maybe later, he would cave and tell PJ, but right now he ignored the text.

Since yesterday, he had calmed down, and felt more able to edit his video. After breakfast with Dan, he finished editing it, letting Dan look it over before posting it for constructive criticism. It was handy, having a friend who was also a YouTuber, and could help out with the filming and editing process, if needed. The outsiders opinion was always good as well, though there wasn’t often any suggestions at this point, just the occasional ‘that cut could be smoother’ or ‘you could add this here’. They were used to this, after years of vlogging.

After Phil uploaded the video and sent out a tweet to tell everyone, he and Dan relaxed. They had been busy lately, with the book and the tour, trying to release semi-regular videos to their personal channels and the gaming channel, as well as a live show every week. It was fun, of course, but it left them with less free time. A couple of years ago, they had hardly anything they needed to do, but now they relished the time in which they could just stay at home and do very little.

Dan suggested that they watch more X-Files, but Phil couldn’t be bothered. It was unusual, perhaps, but after watching it so often to try finish it, he wanted a break. “Let’s just chat,” he said, and Dan gave him a soft smile.

“Sure,” he said. They both laughed when neither offered a follow up, and Dan rolled his eyes.

“So, Dan, tell me what’s been going on in your amazing life lately,” Phil said, as though he didn’t already know most of it.

“Well,” Dan said, playing along with a smirk, “I’ve finished filming a video, it shouldn’t take too long to edit, and this cute boy that I’ve had a crush on since forever asked me out.”

Phil kept his smile frozen in place, not letting it slip when Dan mentioned them dating. He should have expected this to come up. They were boyfriends, that tended to be acknowledged sometimes when you were dating someone. “Oh yeah? Forever sounds like a long time,” Phil said, letting his curiosity get the better of him. Maybe this would only make him feel worse, but he was interested. He wondered how long Dan had liked him for.

Dan was blushing now. “Well, yeah. Okay, I’ll admit, it maybe wasn’t forever, but a long time.”

He didn’t get any more specific than that, so Phil gave him a nudge. “How long, exactly?”

Dan started looking at Phil’s shoulder instead of his face. “About six years?”

Phil’s breath hitched ever so slightly. “That’s a while.”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me more?” Phil asked. He wasn’t sure if he should hate himself for enjoying hearing about this, for the way his heart sped up when Dan said that he liked Phil. Guilt still underlied it all, but he couldn’t deny that he kind of liked it. Was he so desperate for attention that he just liked to know someone was in love with him? He didn’t understand his own emotions- it wasn’t even like he cared about attention all that much.

Dan huffed. “Really?”

“Only if you’re comfortable with it,” Phil corrected himself.

“Okay, well, I mean, eighteen-year-old, emo Dan was a huge fan of you, so of course I had a crush on you then. I think everyone knows that, though. But, I don’t know, I thought when we became closer friends it would go away and we’d just be friends, but if anything it just became worse, y’know? ‘Cause I just got to know you better,” Dan said, then paused, biting his lip. Phil would scold him for the bad habit, but he didn’t want to interrupt. “I actually almost confessed a bunch of times. Like, when you wrote ‘I love Dan’ in the snow, I almost told you I loved you. And when we were on the Manchester Eye, I almost kissed you.”

There was a daydreamer’s smile on his face as he remembered it all, and looking back, Phil wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed. He, himself, had once or twice leaned in for a kiss when it felt natural, before remembering who it was, the age gap, and that they were just friends. That was only when they first met, and he wasn’t quite sure if he had a crush on Dan, but if Dan asked him out, he knew he would say yes.

After that it had passed, because Dan hadn’t acted on his crush, and Phil didn’t let himself fall in love with people who didn’t love him back. He was good at denying feelings for his own sake, and he wished now that they could’ve fallen in love six years ago.

Dan gave Phil a poke. “So? What about you? When did you realise you liked me?” he asked, and Phil panicked.

“Um, I can’t remember exactly when? I guess it’s always been there?” he said, sounding far too much like a question, but Dan didn’t seem to notice. “I wish we could’ve just kissed back then.” That much was true. He still felt a little bit bad for saying it, because he knew Dan would take it as ‘I have loved you since then’ instead of ‘I wish I could’ve loved you all this time’.

Dan’s dimpled smile came into place at the words, and Phil had seen it many times, but never realised how in love with Phil it made him look. Right now, Dan was giving him complete honesty in exchange for reluctant lies and half-truths. Phil kissed him to break the eye contact, and because it would make Dan happy. He let Dan make it a little deeper than usual, and, god, even if he wasn’t in love, Dan was a good kisser.

He was digging himself a hole, he knew, but he let the kiss go on for too long anyway. After it ended, he felt a lot more enthusiastic about watching X-Files. As long as he could temporarily forget his mistakes, he would watch anything.

***

After last night, everything Dan had told him about being in love, the weight of everything was beginning to set in. This was not going to be an easy break-up. This was not going to be as simple as pretending to be in love for a month then gently saying he felt more comfortable as friends, a few weeks of inevitable awkwardness, then back to normal. Oh, no. This was going to be heart break. This was going to be Dan finally thinking that the man he had loved for six years- Phil did the maths, and that was a quarter of his life. This was going to be Dan having that taken away from him after only a month, during which Phil would have to consistently lie to him. This was going to be Dan crying, Dan hurting, because of Phil. This was going to be awkwardness and regret for weeks, and then Dan trying to use it as closure to make them just platonic friends.

What even was their relationship without something romantic there? Now that he knew about Dan’s feelings, and admitted the feelings he used to have, he realised there had always been something blurred about their relationship. Phil didn’t flirt with any of his other friends like he did Dan, wasn’t as close, physically or emotionally. Would that all change once they broke up? Would Dan still make lame jokes about his butt and flirt and wink? Would he still sit as close?

Phil had ruined this. Totally, utterly, ruined this. Sometime, a while after Phil broke up with him, it would be okay, and Dan would be over it, over him, but Phil didn’t want to know how long it would be until then. He couldn’t guess. All he knew was that Dan would hurt because of him, and that was what he wanted least.

Phil was sitting for who-knows-how long before Dan walked into the room. There was nothing on his computer screen, but he was still staring at it, shaking, unsure how he had managed to make things go so wrong. Dan rushed over to him.

“Hey, Phil? What’s wrong?” he asked, putting one hand to Phil’s shoulder slowly, making no sudden moves.

Phil shook his head. He couldn’t tell Dan, wasn’t sure that he would even if he could without breaking his heart.

“Okay, Phil, that’s fine. Do you want me to leave you alone?”

Phil gave a more vigorous shake of his head. “Stay,” he whispered. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not going to lose me. Okay? I’m your best friend, I’m always going to be here for you,” Dan said firmly. “C’mon, stand up and I’ll give you a hug.”

Phil did as Dan suggested and sunk into the familiar arms. Dan’s hugs were the best; it was like being completely protected from anything that could hurt or upset him, his bad thoughts drowned in Dan. His arms were warm and comfortable, and Phil didn’t want to ever let go. He clung to Dan, head hidden in his shoulder, until he felt okay.

When he pulled back, Dan gave him a tiny half-smile, one hand still on Phil’s shoulder. “Better?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Phil said, so quiet it almost couldn’t be heard.

“How does a movie and junk food sound?”

Phil managed an almost invisible, but genuine, smile. “It sounds perfect.”

None of the problems that had upset him were in any way fixed, but for now it felt less messed up. At very least, movies and junk food distracted him long enough for things to feel happy and almost right.

***

Dan was out all day, hanging with some friends of his that Phil didn’t know. Usually, Phil wouldn’t have minded being home alone; whilst he preferred having even just the ambient noises of a flatmate and being able to shout for Dan, it was sometimes nice to have the place to himself. Now, however, he enjoyed it far less so. It was just more time to be stuck with his thoughts and fewer distractions. As was inevitable, he ended up thinking, which meant he was sending himself on a Dan-themed guilt trip.

Who could blame him? With the way Dan treated him, it was far too easy. Dan was everything Phil could hope for in a boyfriend. Sweet, kind, funny, supportive, and interested in the same things as Phil. Before Dan had left that morning, he had kissed Phil goodbye, a small, yet meaningful, gesture. Phil had been told many times before that he and Dan acted as if they were married, and found himself able to agree for the first time.

The thing about this one-sided relationship which frustrated and hurt Phil the most was how natural and great it was. It was how subtle the changes had been. Their relationship, whether platonic or romantic, just felt incredibly secure and happy. Phil loved Dan, loved being close to Dan, and this whole thing could almost work, if only Phil were in love and he hadn’t asked Dan out accidentally.

Phil’s emotions were a mess, all swirling about, too abstract for Phil to even understand them. He was trying to decode a Kandinsky painting or something, and Dan was the artsy one, not Phil. If it wasn’t for Dan, he probably wouldn’t even be able to tell you who Kandinsky was.

God, Phil was hopeless. He couldn’t do this by himself, bearing the weight of guilt and confusion without anyone to help him. Most days, he would walk straight into Dan’s room if he felt this way. Of course, that was hardly appropriate now. Telling him might help, but Phil was too damn afraid, so his fingers slipped into his pocket, pulling out a phone and scrolling straight to PJ’s name.

Before deciding to call PJ up, he had been feeling like- well, like shit, basically. He knew he was a bad person and he knew Dan was too good for him, always had been. Nothing had changed between now and PJ picking up the phone, but having to think up words, knowing he was going to come clean and talk about everything that had happened in the past few weeks- it didn’t help. Instead of feeling better, he had descended to an entire new level of feeling terrible, one where he didn’t want to talk, or think, or even be.

His mum always told him that he would feel better if he talked out his problems, and he knew that was true, but wow, it was hard to start talking about them sometimes. It was hard to acknowledge his own wrong-doings, the things he hated himself for. It was worse when he was filled with a justified fear that these problems did not have solutions. Phil didn’t like to let himself think it, always aware that others had it worse, but things were pretty terrible. Right now, things actually really sucked.

It didn’t ring for long before PJ’s voice was on the other end, drawing out the ‘l’ in his ‘hello’.

“Peej,” he sighed. It took more effort than it should do to bleed out that single word, tongue like a rock, head like a beehive.

“Phil? What’s wrong?” Of course, PJ knew with only one word that something was amiss.

“Just-” Phil took a deep breath in. “Can you come over?”

“I’m free right now,” PJ said. Phil could hear the sound of a laptop clicking shut, rustling as PJ moved around, keys jangling. “I’ll be over as soon as I can be.”

“Thanks,” he said, hands gripping at his phone too tight.

“Bye, Phil.”

He hung up, and Phil put his phone down on a desk. He couldn’t be bothered to return it to his pocket, and knew he wouldn’t use it anyway, not now. Even standing up felt like a lot of effort, and Phil needed to lie down. Had he not been alone, he would force himself to move to his bedroom, but today, he allowed himself to slowly slide down onto the floor. It wasn’t on any level comfortable, but his mind was filled with nothing but loud groans at the moment, so a bit of discomfort was irrelevant.

Several times before, Phil had looked at Dan lying on the floor, out of laziness or boredom or depression, and been unable to understand what motivated him to do it. Whenever Phil felt bad, he automatically seeked out his bed or a sofa, somewhere to curl up alone. Now, he realised Dan did it because of this heavy-limbed tiredness. This feeling of, goddamn it, I don’t even care, just let me stop. It was settling for doing as little as possible since he couldn’t just pause his existence altogether.

Part of Phil felt silly for the way he was acting about all of this. It wasn’t like he had killed Dan, but really, it didn’t feel so far off. He doubted Dan would want to hang around with Phil too much after they broke up. He would want to hang out even less after he found out that this was all a scam. Nothing but some cheap joke. God, Phil was terrible. So damn terrible. He needed sharper words than that to describe himself, he needed words that dug their nails into his skin, words that hurt. He couldn’t think of any, so he settled for terrible.

He hadn’t even registered the sound of PJ buzzing the apartment, only aware that it must have happened because now PJ was beside him, eyebrows creased. “You didn’t answer the buzzer so I just came in,” PJ explained, though his mind seemed to be more focussed on Phil lying on the floor. “Are you- you didn’t… take anything, did you?” PJ’s voice was quiet and deadly serious. The hand that rested on Phil’s shoulder was shaking, and Phil hadn’t even thought how much he must be making PJ worry.

“No. Don’t wanna do anything,” he said. It still took too much energy to speak. His voice must have sounded as smooth and as cool as a river stone. He was still so heavy. Nothing was changing. Taking a deep breath to work up the energy to move felt like too much. Everything felt like too much.

He gripped the radiator with one hand, using it to pull himself up until he was standing. The radiator was off, thankfully, and he didn’t burn his hand, but he couldn’t bring himself to care either way. God, it had been so long since he felt quite as careless as this, quite as dull.

PJ followed him to the sitting room, sitting on the couch next to where Phil collapsed. Working on muscle memory, Phil turned on the TV. He said nothing until the programme ended, whatever it was. He was letting himself thaw out, until his limbs were no longer numb and frozen at the joints, the words his tongue offered to share no longer frostbitten.

“God, I messed everything up with Dan,” he sighed, finally. “Things are so, so bad.”

PJ said nothing. He was a great listener, so Phil spoke, his mind trailing as his mouth did the work. It took a good fifteen minutes before Phil was done talking, PJ staring at him the whole time. His expression was firm, serious, but not angry. PJ wasn’t angry at him, and Phil couldn’t feel more relieved. As bad as it made him feel to have to go over all the ways he was hurting Dan, it was nice to get it out there. To no longer feel like he was lying to everyone.

“Phil, you know neither of you can carry on like this,” PJ said, calm. “It’s too much emotional stress for you, and it’s cruel to drag him around like that. You don’t mean to, I know, but it still hurts him.”

Phil let himself collapse against PJ’s shoulder. “I know. I just- how? How do I even tell him? Do I have to say it wasn’t real?” he asked, looking up at PJ and feeling like a child once again. It would be nice to go back to childhood, his problems so small in comparison to now. He needed someone to make decisions for him, to tell him what to do and how, without Phil ever having to think too much. He missed being twelve and innocent.

PJ sighed sympathetically. “You have to tell him everything. You know you can’t lie for shit, he would know you were hiding something, and it’d only strain your relationship more.”

Phil wished PJ wasn’t right. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want any of this. Right now, he wanted to curl up and cry. He wanted to do anything but think about Dan. It wasn’t full fledged crying, but Phil knew a few tears slipped out. He felt too old to cry, even if he knew there wasn’t an age limit on this kind of thing.

PJ tugged him close. “I’m sorry, Phil.”

***

It had been exactly three weeks since Phil had asked Dan out. He hadn’t meant to be keeping track, but Dan was important to him, which meant this mess of a relationship was important to him. Even if he shouldn’t get attached to what they have, he had somehow managed it anyway. That wasn’t to say he wanted it to continue for any reason other than avoiding the end.

Or. Well. Phil wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure anymore. Maybe he did enjoy this little thing he and Dan had going, if you removed the deceitful parts. Maybe he liked kissing and hand-holding, maybe he was starved of romance. Maybe he liked hugging and cuddling, something that they had previously restrained themselves from during their friendship. Whatever enjoyment he had from this relationship was just caused by the fact that he was in a romantic relationship, not because of the person he was dating, right? Right.

Or- unless, just maybe.

No. No, nah, nope, never, non, nein. Phil recited the word in as many ways as he could think of, which turned out not to be very many. He couldn’t believe he almost went there. Almost dared to think about him and Dan as something like this, but something realer. It made him feel sinful, even to think about it. This wasn’t something he allowed himself to think about. He had to tell himself they were platonic, just platonic.

A small part of his mind asked, “Why?”, and he couldn’t quite answer. Before, way back in 2009, when their relationship was new, and Phil was learning where to draw the lines, it was because he was sure Dan didn’t want to date Phil, and that was okay. Not quite so long ago, only a few years back, it was because they were both afraid to think about it, and the heavy strain on their relationship was already enough to break Phil’s back, and he didn’t need a broken heart alongside that.

Now? Dan liked him, so it was wanted by at least one of the two. Phil tried to ask himself if he wanted this, too, if the feelings he tried to eradicate years ago had managed to survive, ignored at the back of Phil’s mind.

Before he could find an answer, Phil stopped himself. He knew the reason why any romantic feelings he may potentially have needed to be ignored until they wilted. Maybe if he had figured this all out sooner, it could’ve worked out. If he had realised three weeks ago and asked Dan out, not as some misguided joke, but genuinely, they could share real kisses. In that case, it would’ve all been fine. But even if he were to realise now that he was in love with Dan, this relationship couldn’t continue, because it would remain that it was founded on lies.

So, no, there was just no way they could work out. Phil wanted to scream, but instead he rubbed at his eyes. Whichever way he thought about it, they had to break up.

Phil picked up the notebook he usually wrote video ideas in, and scribbled out drafts for how he could tell Dan the truth.

After an hour, he had ripped out eleven pages, all crumpled and thrown away with frustrated groans. He attempted once more, the page covered in just as many scribbles as all of his last attempts. There was no easy way to say it. The words did not come easy.

Pressing the heel of his hand into his eyes to push back tears, Phil flung the book across his room. It was childish, an uncharacteristic display of violence, but he just wanted to stop thinking about it for a bit longer. How long would he keep thinking ‘a bit longer’ for? Phil didn’t know. All he knew was that, when Dan found out, he wouldn’t understand how Phil went from giving him sleepy morning kisses on the sofa to this, to breaking up and finding out not a single second of it had been real, that his best friend had lied to him like this.

Phil didn’t understand it either. He wanted to cry, but, god, wasn’t sleep often so much easier?

***

Sleep faded his memories. He spent a few cosy, half-unconscious minutes blissfully unaware, just basking in the morning light that broke through his window, curtains left open. His arm was numb from sleeping on it, and he could feel his hair was a mess, but he didn’t think about either, attention taken by how comfy his nest of blankets was.

It was only after he stretched out, wriggling his toes and arching his back with a satisfied groan, that his mind began to grab at memories, once again leaving him with the crushing reality of it all. Sleep was calling to him, tempting him with its promises that he wouldn’t need to think, but he was already too awake.

He forced himself out of bed, pulling on day clothes. The house wasn’t completely freezing, which meant that Dan must have woken up and turned the heating on. Great. Just who he wanted to see right now. Phil would be unable to stop thinking about everything he had written yesterday, everything he hadn’t been able to write.

He didn’t even look at his notebook as he exited his room, making his way to the kitchen. Dan was nowhere to be seen, and maybe Phil should feel guilty for being so pleased. What was this, 2012? Was he going to start flinching at every touch from Dan, locking himself in his room to get away, only to realise he couldn’t lock out the thoughts of Dan? Time repeats itself. (Or, as Dan would point out, time is a concept created by humans.)

Right now, Phil wanted toast, but toast was harder to make than cereal, so he filled his bowl with Lucky Charms and milk. There was hardly enough left for his cereal; was that where Dan was? Had he been in the sitting room, Phil would’ve heard him, so it was possible he was out on a milk run.

His eyes caught on a used bowl by the sink, right beside a half-finished mug of coffee. Maybe not. Phil frowned, but didn’t bother to investigate further. They were both adults, Dan could go out in the morning without telling Phil. Not to say he was necessarily out- maybe he was showering.

Whatever. Rather than getting worried over what would most likely turn out to be nothing, Phil could watch the news and scroll through Tumblr. His plan to stop irrationally worrying about where Dan was turned out to be flawed, in that his Tumblr dash was full of pictures of Dan. Of course it was.

Already, his mind was thinking about the worst. PJ told Dan everything and now they both hate him. Dan developed mind reading powers and found out what Phil had done. Phil’s mind pumped out at least ten more situations in which Dan could find out, get upset, and leave Phil forever, each more unrealistic than the last. It was difficult to calm himself down, to remind himself that Dan couldn’t know. It was between Phil and PJ, and PJ never shared anyone’s secrets.

His fears would be easier to quash down if Dan were here, acting normal. However, it was noon, and Dan was awake but not near Phil. Knowing he wouldn’t stop worrying until he knew where Dan was, Phil sent a text his way.

No response. Another text, ten minutes after the first. No answer. Unread.

Phil stood up, calling Dan’s name. If he wasn’t in the house, he would confront PJ about it. There was no shout in response, only a distant thump. Was- was Dan okay? Phil sprinted to his room, trying to open the door. Locked.

He gave a series of hard knocks to the wood, hurting his knuckles. “Dan?” he asked. “Dan, are you okay?”

There was a thump as something hit the door, then another as it fell to the ground. “Fuck off!”

Phil jerked away from the words. Sure, Dan swore a lot, sometimes at Phil, but never like this. He never actually shouted at Phil with real anger, never because of anything but silly things like video games. “D- Dan?” he whispered, not because he wanted to be quiet, but because he couldn’t quite breathe.

“What? Do you actually want to talk to me, Philip?” Dan asked. “Because it seemed like you were pretty fucking keen to get away from me.”

The notebook. Oh, dear Lord, the notebook. Just- just. God, no. Phil was frozen, silent. What did he say to that? For three weeks, everything had been leading up to now, to when Phil would have to tell him, but it had always been something Phil could control. Phil would be able to choose a time when he was ready to tell Dan, would be able to prepare himself for- for all of this. Well, that was in theory.

In practice, nothing ever went right. Everything had shattered around Phil, and he was left standing in the ruined shards of what he and Dan once had, and why was Phil so busy thinking that he couldn’t speak? He wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

From the other side of the door, Dan scoffed. “I thought you might try to fix this, but I guess not, huh?” he said, voice thick. The door banged, presumably as Dan punched it or threw something else.

“Dan, I-” he began, voice a weak whisper to Dan’s broken shouts. “I didn’t mean to.”

A heavy breath, and Phil was sure Dan would be shaking his head and staring at Phil in sickened amazement if they were on the same side of the door. “Oh, so, oh, what? You didn’t mean to ask me out for a joke, or, or, to fucking kiss me and pretend you loved me and whatever else we did? You didn’t mean to? It was an accident? You didn’t mean to listen to me pour my fucking heart out about how I fell in love with you, and fucking everything else I was foolish enough to trust you with, huh? It was a mistake? I can’t fucking believe that. I can’t fucking trust you.”

Phil wanted to wail. He wanted to somehow prove he cared, that it wasn’t meant to happen, wanted to find the words to make Dan understand that he knew he was terrible and he ruined everything, but he didn’t mean to and he cared so, so much.

No words came tumbling from his tongue, just a muted, high-pitched whine that Dan wouldn’t be able to hear, a hand reaching up to the wood separating them. “I’m so sorry,” he begged, knowing how useless it was, knowing how inadequate meek apologies were when he had made things so, so wrong.

The door pulled away from Phil’s palm, leaving his hand to fall down, alongside his heart and stomach. Dan’s shoulders were tense and high, reddened eyes staring past Phil, hair in half-tangled curls. He was fully dressed, wearing shoes he hadn’t properly tied, and a shoulder bag. It was Dan’s black messenger bag, clothes peaking out the sides after hastily being packed away.

Dan looked ready to leave, and Phil wasn’t so sure he planned on coming back, or at least not for a long time.

Phil was stuck in the doorway, desperate to clutch at Dan, to force him to stay, or maybe just to beg him to, but knowing it would be pointless.

“You’re blocking the doorway,” Dan said, voice rough. Phil saw the tears slipping out of Dan’s eyes as he blinked, saw him trying to hide them by tilting his head away from Phil.

Swallowing, Phil felt himself move out of the way. “Sorry,” he repeated, voice cracking. He wasn’t sure if he was apologising for being in the way or for the lies, but what did it matter? It was evident Dan didn’t care either way, treading down the hallway and out of the house, door clicking shut behind him as he left. Just. Left. Dan was gone.

Phil couldn’t guess how long he cried for. He knew that the top of his shirt was soaked after using it as a makeshift tissue for however long, and that his head felt like an explosion of emotional and physical pain, but otherwise, he had no idea.

Hands shaking, Phil pulled his phone out of his pocket as he had yesterday, and once again called PJ. He didn’t wait for PJ to greet him before he began speaking.

“Dan left,” he said, sounding almost calm. He had finished crying for now, his head and throat and eyes all too sore for him to continue. Now, he was ready to just sleep.

“Shit, Phil, did you tell him?” PJ asked, sounding worried.

Phil shrugged, wishing he could leave his response as that; he couldn’t be bothered to explain. “He knows.”

“Should I come over? He hasn’t said anything about where he is, but I can call around to try find out where he is and make sure he’s okay.”

“Don’t come over. You can try find him if you want.”

“Okay, Phil. I- you don’t wanna talk right now, but call if you need me, yeah?”

Phil made a vague sound and hung up. It was difficult to trudge to his bedroom, and even harder to convince himself not to sleep in Dan’s bed, but he ended up on top the blue-and-green covers regardless.

Sleep.

***

Phil did not move. He curled up in his bed and clutched his phone in his hand, ignoring all his calls and texts because none of them were from Dan, and Dan was the only person he wanted to talk to right now. He didn’t even respond to PJ, who kept trying to see if he was alright.

No, I’m not okay. My best friend broke up with me, or I broke up with him, and he hates me and I love him, Phil wanted to shout at PJ. Even if PJ meant well, there was no possible way Phil could feel anywhere near okay right now.

Phil went between sending countless texts to Dan, ranging from ‘are you okay?’ to ‘please come back I love you’, and crying as he regretted even trying to salvage this shipwreck. They had sunk to the bottom of the ocean but he was still trying to bail out the water. It just wouldn’t work. There was no damn point.

How could he stop trying, though? If nothing else, this breakdown could make him admit one thing: he missed their relationship, and every part of it. The friendship and the romantic side of things. He liked talking to Dan, joking with him, watching horror movies with him, and even kissing him. It didn’t mean a thing anymore, none of it did. What were the chances of Dan wanting to be friends with him again, never mind the chances of Dan wanting to give dating him a go. In fact, Phil wouldn’t date Dan even if Dan wanted to, because Phil just didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve Dan.

What a perfect mess Phil had made. He rested his forehead against his phone and let out a half-sigh, half-sob. The door to his room clicked open, and Phil couldn’t help but feel disappointed when it was PJ in the doorway, not Dan.

The lights flicked on, making Phil burrow his head under his duvet. The bed dipped with PJ’s weight, a hand resting on Phil’s shoulder. “Phil, talk to me,” PJ said.

“Dan’s gone,” Phil said, muffled by the covers. PJ pulled them from over his face, prompting him to repeat himself. “He’s gone.”

“What happened?” PJ asked, and Phil groaned.

“I was going to break up with him so I wrote it all down in my notebook, and then he found it and he hates me now.”

PJ said nothing.

“It sucks! I love him, Peej. I really love him and he’s my best friend and I ruined everything and he’s gone. And I liked kissing him! He’s really funny and I love his smile and he’s the most important person ever and he’s cute and I wanted to live with him forever, or maybe he would marry someone else and be happy and it would suck but I wouldn’t mind if he was happy,” Phil said. Being with Dan forever was part of the plan. Being his best friend forever was part of the plan. Dating him was maybe part of the plan, but none of this ever was.

PJ nodded. “I know, Phil,” he said, then rubbed a hand over his face with a half-hearted laugh. “Would’ve been great if you figured this all out a few weeks ago.”

“Too late now.”

“Phil, do you honestly think Dan would throw away six years of friendship?” PJ asked, interrupting Phil before he could say, yes, I do. “Yeah, you fucked up, and it’s pretty bad, but this isn’t the end. Give him some time, talk about it, then prove that you love him and you’re not some huge asshole.”

“I don’t deserve his forgiveness,” Phil said.

“Well, too bad, I’m not letting you lose Dan.”

***

With PJ’s convincing, Phil decided to at least explain to Dan what had happened, in an effort not to give up everything they had. It wasn’t that Phil was eager to forget the past six years- anything but, these were the happiest of his life- rather he didn’t know if Dan should be friends with him. Deep down, there had always been a lack of self-worth, his dark parts whispering into his ear that Dan would find someone funnier, cooler, better, and he would move on from Phil. All of this only confirmed that Phil was bad for Dan, and maybe this would be a good way to break it off with Dan. There was no way Dan would be tempted to try to stay friends with Phil now. Perhaps Phil should let him get on with his life, to find someone better.

He didn’t voice these fears to PJ, but it was like he knew anyway, like he heard it in the subtext of ‘I don’t deserve forgiveness’. Phil was endlessly thankful. He doubted he could ever say any of that out loud, not when the thoughts alone scared him so much.

Whatever the case, PJ’s encouragement was enough for Phil to at least make one last attempt to save this. By now, Phil could safely say that, no, Dan would not respond to, or even read, the texts Phil rained down on him. Knowing Phil couldn’t text or call or talk to him in person, Phil set up the camera. It might have been a silly idea, but it wasn’t his worst.

“I can’t excuse what I did, ever, because even if it was some huge mistake, I hurt you, and I should’ve stopped this all sooner. I’m sorry, even if it can’t make up for this. I was tired, and you looked so happy when you kissed me, and I messed up,” Phil said, struggling to look into the camera lens. His eyes drifted to the image of himself, which he knew pissed Dan off. “I know it’s late, and I lied to you- I’ll never be able to forgive myself for that- but I really do love you. I love you more than anyone else, and I get that you’re angry at me, and I don’t deserve a second chance, but I mean what I’m saying right now. I love you, Dan.”

He edited the video minimally, only editing out the parts where he turned the camera off and on, and posted it privately on his side channel, hoping it would work better than last time. He texted the link, hoping it would interest Dan enough for him to click it, but knowing better than to expect anything.

Phil wished he could get rid of that part of him which let him think Dan might forgive him. It was only setting him up for disappointment.

***

Phil spent the entire day checking his phone as often as possible, looking at the video he had posted and desperately waiting for it to say ‘1 view’. As much as he knew Dan watching it didn’t equate to Dan forgiving him, he was hopelessly hopeful. ‘Hopelessly hopeful’? God, he was referencing Fall Out Boy in his thoughts, how much more like 2012 could this be?

It was half past three in the afternoon when Phil checked his phone for the second time that hour to see what he had been so desperately waiting for: 1 view. Dan had seen his video. Phil was far too happy about this fact, let himself be far too hopeful as he opened up the messenger on his phone to see if he had any response from Dan.

No, of course not, he scolded himself, hope once again crumbling down to something more realistic when he saw he had no messages from Dan. A view was not forgiveness, it was a view. If Phil was lucky, it would mean Dan understood a bit more and hated him a bit less. Alas, when had luck been there for him? With the way things had been going lately, the video had probably upset and pissed off Dan more.

You did this to yourself, Phil had to remind himself. This was his own damn doing, and he would deal with the consequences, even if it involved a whole lot of tears and heartache. No matter what he did, it was down to Dan, in the end, if he was kind enough to forgive Phil for what he did.

Phil was staring at his wall when he heard footsteps in his house, and realised he had once again missed the sound of someone entering their apartment. If anyone wanted to rob them, they would have an easy time doing it.

“Peej, that you?” he called, hurting his voice. He hadn’t been so loud, but he had also forgotten to drink anything today, and it was the first time he had even spoken since filming the video for Dan the previous day.

There was no response, and Phil frowned. “Peej?” Again, only his own voice, bouncing off the walls, returned to him.

Cautious, he exited his room, curling his hands into clumsy fists in case it was a burglar. They tightened then went slack when he saw who it actually was.

Dan, who Phil hadn’t seen in two days, but who Phil had never missed more. Dan, with his hair straightened, but with dark eyes and nails chewed short. Dan, who had came back. He was in a state, and Phil was seconds away from throwing himself at Dan, hugging him close and whispering ‘I’m sorry, I love you’ as many times as he could.

“Dan, you’re back,” he whispered, and he must have looked like he had seen an angel. There was so much he wanted, needed to say, there always was, and he didn’t know where to start. To start with ‘sorry’ or ‘I love you’ would feel disingenuous, but anything else would feel like he was trying to ignore the obvious. He was left staring in conflicted awe as Dan adjusted the shoulder bag.

“I’m not ‘back’, Phil, I’m getting some fucking underwear,” he said, jaw tight. “Why would I be back?”

Those were the words Phil should have expected to hear, that he had been expecting to hear, right up until he actually heard them. Phil had faced rejection thousands of times, but never quite as succinct or brutal, nor as deserved.

“I meant everything I said in that video, Dan. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but, please, I don’t want to lose you,” he said. He had promised himself to try make this about Dan, but right now he just wanted to scream about how much he needed Dan, how much Dan meant to him, how broken he would be if he lost him for good. Things were so damn difficult.

“Fuck, Phil, really? Because I fucking let myself believe you were in love with me only a few weeks ago and do you see where that shit got me? I don’t even want to see you right now! I can’t believe I let myself fucking believe it! I should’ve known, fucking fuck it, I should’ve known it couldn’t be real,” Dan said, looking as broken as Phil felt. He sighed, lips tugging down in a frown as he looked away. “Of course you couldn’t be fucking in love with me, isn’t it enough that you loved me in any way? I shouldn’t have been so greedy. Fucking damn it, Phil. I just- I don’t. God. I don’t even know, Phil. I thought you really loved me for a while there, you know? I’m so fucking pathetic. Did you laugh when I was so eager to kiss you?”

Phil shook his head desperately, reaching out a hand only to have Dan flinch away. Apologetic, he took a step back to give Dan space. “I never laughed at you Dan, never. I do love you, I really do, and I didn’t mean to. It was a mistake, I just- didn’t know how to take back what I said, and then I ended up getting in too deep, and I ruined this all, I know I did, but I never laughed at you. I do love you, and I- I think I’m in love with you, and I just wish didn’t work it out soon enough. God, I’m sorry, I do love you.”

Dan started backing away towards his room. “Well, I wish you had figured it out sooner, too, but wishing never changed a damn thing, Phil. I just- I need time away from you. I’m getting clothes. Stop texting me.”

“O-okay. I can stay with PJ for a while, if you want,” Phil whispered.

“Don’t bother.”

Phil said, “Okay,” once again, but Dan had already turned his back on Phil, and no matter how sure Phil had been that everything was fucked up, they had just been fears, and he was left with that flicker of ‘what if’. Now, everything had been solidified, made real, his nightmares had a physical form and he couldn’t get away from them, because they lived in absence. They lived in the empty chairs, the quiet, the space where Dan’s laptop usually was, the lack of bowls and mugs beside the sink. However much Phil had feared losing Dan, it had never felt like something that could actually happen; Dan was just too permanent, too much of a sure thing in Phil’s life. He had never truly thought he could lose Dan, not until recently, and now it was all confirmed.

What was he without Dan? Yes, he could live without him, but so much of his life was centred around Dan that he didn’t know what it would even be like not to see or talk to him. The front door opened and closed, and none of this felt like it could or should be real.

***

Nothing felt right without Dan. He still couldn’t go on any social media without seeing something about Dan, and the apartment smelt like him, still looked like theirs. He was surrounded by pictures of them, memories of them baking together, cuddling together, the toys Phil had bought for Dan, the books they had discussed for hours. Phil couldn’t go from having Dan everywhere he went to not having Dan at all.

Phil hadn’t cried since their argument, or whatever it had been. None of it felt real. He felt pain, worse than if Dan were just on holiday, but he couldn’t process Dan being gone.

***

It was another two days before it began to set in, before Phil woke up from a confusing nightmare once again, wanting to text Dan about it, feeling tortured in how useless he was. It was like watching a movie, noticing and trying to stop all the mistakes the characters were making, but in the end, shouting at a screen did nothing but hurt his throat and make his head ache.

It was the first time that he began to register Dan’s absence, stopped being able to think that Dan was on another business trip, or visiting his family. It was agony. His crying was loud and unrestrained, unlike he had ever let himself cry before. It gave him a migraine, which only made him cry harder. What did it matter? Dan wouldn’t hear him, the neighbours wouldn’t care, and PJ wasn’t there, either.

After some time, he was too tired to cry. His lungs were aching, and he needed to take some painkillers for the self-inflicted headache. It was four in the afternoon, which meant that PJ would be over soon. God, PJ was good, and Phil couldn’t thank him enough. He knew how Phil would deal with Dan being gone, so he had started coming over every day with a cooked meal for Phil to make sure he ate, and would chat and joke with Phil for an hour or two before he went back to his house. Phil owed him his life, but PJ just rolled his eyes, shaking off any compliments with a laugh or a joke. Humble as ever.

Sure enough, it was only fifteen minutes before PJ was knocking on the door, and Phil didn’t bother answering. There was no point, he would come in either way. As expected, PJ came into the sitting room, brow furrowing at the state of Phil. Doubtless, he had red eyes and a wet shirt, and Phil was sure everything else about him looked a mess. It wasn’t like he had sorted out his hair that morning, or paid attention to what he threw on.

PJ put down the tupperware box and sat beside Phil, placing an arm over his shoulder. “How’re you doing, Phil?” he asked, smart enough not to bother asking if he was okay. Of course he wasn’t.

“I don’t know. It’s just finally set in that he’s gone,” Phil whispered, leaning into PJ.

“Want to eat a load of food and watch shit horror movies?” PJ asked, and Phil nodded. This wasn’t something he could talk through, just something he could get through. “I’ll put this in the fridge, we need popcorn and chocolate for this.”

PJ moved to the kitchen, leaving Phil to decide on a movie. When he returned, bearing sweets, Phil had found a Korean horror film. Things felt almost normal for a while.

***

Phil was ashamed to admit that he spent the last two hours alternately checking to see if Dan had been active on any social media, then rewatching old videos they had been in together. This was a new low, he was sure. It was rare that he rewatched the first Phil Is Not On Fire they did, if only because it was strange to look back on a piece of the past which he remembered so clearly, so full of emotion and nerves and excitement. He watched it three times that day, crying each time at what they were, what they could have been, and what he could say with utter certainty, they should have been. Of every relationship it was possible for them to have, romantic or platonic or sexual, the relationship they had currently was the last thing they should ever have become. They never should have ended up like this.

His phone was right beside him, begging for him to just text Dan, to try to pretend they were okay. He wished he could blame Dan for this, could say Dan was wrong not to let Phil back into his life, but he knew this was his fault. He betrayed the trust they had shared for six years, and it was too much to expect to be taken back by Dan.

Everything had an end, whether it was good or bad, and maybe he and Dan had just… ended.

God, that made Phil cry. It shouldn’t be like this, it shouldn’t.

PJ found him like that, let him dry his eyes and calm down before suggesting they go out. “When was the last time you left the house?” he asked.

Sometime before Dan left, probably. When had Dan left? A week ago? The amount of time spent thinking about it must have made it obvious that it was too long ago.

“I won’t make you if you don’t feel up for it, but you should get out,” PJ said.

Phil nodded. He didn’t want to go outside, but he didn’t particularly want to stay inside, either. The fresh air might remind him he was alive. “Yeah, sure, let’s go.”

They didn’t have anything in mind, so it ended up being wandering around, dipping into cool shops that caught their interest, and then having a meal together. It didn’t feel normal, and Phil’s smiles were a bit too dull, laughs a bit forced, but being outside was good. Seeing trees and flowers and people other than PJ was good.

He was not moving on. He would not move on, could not move on, and he couldn’t even begin to heal yet, maybe not for a long time. What he was doing right now was good, though, it wasn’t destructive, and it distracted him at least a little. Progress, maybe.

***

Things went down the drain when Dan sent him a text saying, “i need to get stuff from our apartment”.

Our apartment. It was a hammer to the ribs, but not as bad as your apartment would be. Phil struggled to resist the urge to spill out everything, to let Dan see just how much Phil had missed him and wanted to see, yet how afraid he was about how he would react when he saw Dan in person for the first time in- however long, since he left.

Okay, come whenever, he replied, as reserved as possible. He half-wondered if he would cry when he saw Dan, the ultimate reminder of what he had lost. He hoped he didn’t, because how would Dan even respond to that? He couldn’t hug him, not without making it worse. Would he just stand there, like some stranger? Would he give him a disapproving glance like he was some wailing kid whose parents couldn’t shut him up?

Thinking wasn’t the best thing to do right now. Some may even argue it was the worst thing he could do for himself, and Phil may be inclined to agree.

ill be over in 15, k?

He wanted to say no. No, it’s too soon, he wasn’t ready, wasn’t so sure he ever would be ready.

Yeah, that’s fine

Phil sent a text to PJ to tell him what was happening, quickly answered with, do you want me to come over? Phil sent a short ‘no’ and left it at that. If anything, it was more a warning that he might need him to come over later. He wanted to be alone with Dan.

PJ sent one more text saying, if you need me just text, and then there was a knock on the door. Phil wished he wouldn’t knock, wouldn’t act as if this home wasn’t as much Dan’s as it was Phil’s. Like so many things, this apartment belonged to both of them, Dan’s love of monochrome interrupted with bursts of Phil’s colour, Dan’s tidy shelves and Phil’s stray mugs, DVDs they had shared together, everything which Phil looked at and saw the both of them in. If Dan wanted his own place after all of this, Phil would have to move somewhere different, too, because it could only be empty without all of the Dan things to fill the gaps.

Phil had hoped that Dan would just walk in after the couple of knocks, but as was often happening these days, Phil was bitterly disappointed. He rushed downstairs to open the unlocked door to face his (ex?) best friend, his hand hesitating as he swung it open. Dan didn’t look quite the mess he was when Phil last saw him, his hair now straightened and swept neatly into his side fringe. His clothes weren’t creased, the rings around his eyes somewhat faded, but still with none of the happiness Phil used to see. Phil wasn’t sure if he was more worried by how Dan was now, getting better and learning to live without Phil, or how Dan was before, wasting away without him. Dan moving on was better. Dan being healthy, one day happy, would always be better than him needing Phil as much as Phil needed him.

Six years ago, Dan had became a part of Phil’s life, and even if what they had was withering, spreading on its death to other parts of Phil the longer it stayed, Phil couldn’t uproot it, not yet. He couldn’t, not when Dan wasn’t completely gone. Phil didn’t even want to think about it. He felt sick, and he begged his body not to throw up on Dan, or to cry with him there.

Dan gave him a tiny smile, nowhere near real, and Phil returned it. They entered the apartment, and Dan hovered in the sitting room, eyes on the mini Spider-Man Phil had attached to the blinds a while ago. “You haven’t been online much lately,” Dan remarked, instead of moving to grab his stuff and leave.

Phil cocked his head slightly. “No. Neither have you,” he said, leaving out the, how could I? I would see you, only you, and that would hurt too much.

“True. I’m missing the memes. Meme withdrawal,” Dan joked, just a sliver of his old self returning.

Phil wondered why he was doing it, if he felt obliged, if he wanted to test Phil’s reactions, or if he was talking to Phil because he wanted to. He wanted to believe it was one of the first two options, to try to disconnect himself from Dan, but he knew Dan far too well. Dan would not speak to him if he didn’t want to.

“This must be the longest you’ve been meme-less in ages. What are you without Doge and Shrek?” Phil asked. When they spoke like this, he could pretend it was normal. He could sink into the past and maybe live there forever. They managed half and hour of chit-chat, laughing and sitting next to each other. It was stunted at times, laughs too slow or fast or loud, out of place in this graveyard of an apartment.

This place had been dead, empty, containing Dan only in spirit for the past week or two. Phil wasn’t even sure how long, if he was honest. He couldn’t remember every day to be able to count, and whilst it felt like a month, he would be surprised if it was more than two weeks. Even at the best of times, Phil’s ability to estimate time was questionable.

Now, Dan had returned from the dead, skin paler and eyes darker than they used to be, and he was everything Phil had missed. This was a time when he needed physical reassurance, needed to reach for his hand, those fingers which Phil had watched rush and dance over piano keys so many times, and he needed to just feel that Dan was there and he was safe and home and it was okay.

He was too afraid to try it. His fingers might pass through him, or he might touch him, only for the warmth slip away from Phil, his friend startled and offended. No matter how natural being with Dan felt, like river stones and ivy and rain, it remained that things had changed. It was a reminder whispered in the half-foot of distance between them, the almost-touching of their feet before they shifted away in sync. Neither could forget it, even when it was masked with this desperate attempt at closing their eyes tight enough to not see their mistakes, just for a moment.

There was a silence after their laughs that carried on too long, and there were too many cups and bowls around the place, something Dan wouldn’t allow. Phil’s jacket was laying on the floor, alongside a few stray socks. There was an empty pizza box and a DVD out of its case on the table, all small things that brought them back to the reality they now lived in.

Dan was staring at the shelves, and Phil followed his eyes. A polaroid picture from earlier that year, one they had taken when Phil had only just gotten his camera. It had been taken jokingly during a YouNow, pulling ugly faces and pressed close together, arms overlapping and almost holding hands. Even if it was during a YouNow, where they were more restrained and not quite as open, it was still them, so much more comfortable and relaxed in front of thousands than they were now, with only the other in the room.

Dan spoke first, gaze drifting from the picture to Phil as he was now, real and sitting with his hands folded in his lap to stop himself moving, gravitating towards Dan. “The fans miss us being together,” he said.

Phil knew. No matter how much he avoided social media, any second spent on it was full of ‘where have Dan and Phil gone?’ and ‘are they still friends?’ and ‘are they okay?’ and Phil couldn’t answer a single damn one of those questions.

“I miss us being together,” Phil whispered, ever aware of the countless boundaries he might step over, the many ways he could upset or annoy Dan, that could make him run out their apartment.

The hurt in Dan’s eyes was clear, the same bone-ache that Phil had been suffering from seen reflected in Dan as he chewed his lip. After a tense break, Dan looked up at Phil. “I want to come back but I don’t know if I’m ready.”

God, what? Dan? Was Dan saying he wanted to come back? That it wasn’t over? The words were choking him, and he struggled to speak. “You’re giving me another chance?” he whispered, sure there were tears in his eyes.

Dan jerked back, and Phil picked at his jeans, not sure what he said wrong. Had he misinterpreted? Did Dan not really want to come back? An apology was ready to slip off his tongue when Dan shook his head firmly. “Phil, what? I know this is bad, and it’s going to take a while to work through, and maybe a few times I thought it might be the end, but we’ve been friends for ages. We can’t just stop,” he said, one hand edging closer to Phil. He wanted to take Dan’s hand, grip it tight, but he didn’t dare.

Phil didn’t respond, not sure how to say that, yes, he did think that.

“Fuck, Phil, no,” he said, giving the briefest of bumps to Phil’s shoulder. “I mean, I don’t know. Sure, you hurt me, and I needed time away, but six years, Phil. I can’t throw that away. We’ll get past this in a while. Right? We got through something like this before.”

Phil nodded, both wanting Dan to come back and wanting him to leave, because right now, Phil wanted to cry more than anything. Once, Dan had idolised Phil, had been sure he was perfect. Now, Phil was close to tears on their couch because Dan had forgiven him. Time had brought too many confusing changes for Phil to ever keep up with.

“Okay, I have some stuff left where I was staying. What if I come back home in a couple of days, yeah?” Dan suggested.

Phil’s communication abilities were largely down to nodding and shaking his head at this point. An speech might give away his emotions, if they weren’t already obvious.

Dan collected the things he had came to get, and hovered by the doorway, rocking back and forth a bit, as if not sure whether to just leave or say something first. “Okay,” he said.

Phil nodded.

Dan left.

***

At least two hours were spent tidying house in the morning before Dan returned. It was the sort of thing Phil should have organised earlier, but inevitably did not do. Phil had never been a tidy person; his attention drifted during repetitive tasks, and Dan was always having to remind him he was supposed to be cleaning the stove, not watching videos on his phone. Without the reminder, and lacking in motivation, too, he struggled to clean. It was only trying to hide how much of a wreck he was without Dan that made him get to work.

The floors were hoovered, dishes cleaned, and clothes no longer scattered everywhere when Dan came back. It was the most put together Phil had felt in a long time, even with his nerves about Dan’s return.

There were questions tangling through his mind, tying together his love for Dan and his fears and his regrets. Phil didn’t have a clue what it would be like when Dan came back. He couldn’t even pretend that he thought it would be normal again, at least not at first. After they had gotten used to being together again, they could fall back into their normality, their friendship, but until then? No, it wouldn’t be instant. Phil wasn’t even sure if he would always be able to look Dan in the eyes.

More often than not these days, it was best if Phil just didn’t think about it, if he just let things happen and dealt with them as they did. He wasted time, avoiding thoughts about what was happening later that day, shifting and pacing and bouncing. He needed to just take things as they happened.

***

Phil heard the footsteps, a familiar weight making the stairs creak, settling in front of their apartment door for a moment before turning the handle. He was stuck staring as it twisted, waiting for Dan to step through the door.

Nerves and excitement and worry kept Phil sitting as he glanced over Dan, trying not to let his eyes catch on every curve and corner as they so often did. It was a useless attempt; Dan’s svelte hands were clinging to the strap of his bag as he forced a smile. The only thing Phil wanted right now was to be allowed to hug Dan, to run up to him and pull him tight and murmur about how much he loved Dan, how much he had missed him, to tell him everything about what it had been like without him.

It wasn’t so much the big things that he missed about Dan, but everything else. It was being able to tell him about the weird people, being offered a cup of tea, getting told off for not sleeping, the glares when he didn’t do the ironing, the whines of, “Phi-il!” It was everything. Without Dan, the apartment and Phil himself were just so empty, so lonely.

Phil didn’t move, just watched Dan fiddle with his bag as he closed the door behind him. “Hey, Phil,” he said.

“Hey, Dan.” It was almost a surprise that he managed to get those words out.

Neither of them offered a follow-up, no ‘how are you?’ or ‘it’s nice to be living together again’. Dan glanced towards the hallway leading to his room, and Phil gave him a little nod, telling him it was fine if he wanted to leave.

He wasn’t sure if Dan picked up on the nod, but he left either way, and this was no different to when he had been gone altogether. He could hear the gentle shifting, Dan putting away his clothes and returning his laptop to the table. He doubted they would have any real conversations today.

Phil would take it slow and relish whatever he got.

***

Breakfast was, as to be expected, awkward. Phil wished he could rush into it, relax against the sofa and have conversations about aliens and anime and the Phil Is Not On Fire they were supposed to be filming next month, but it couldn’t work out like that. He was stuck forcing smiles every time Dan made eye contact with him, like Dan was just some stranger on the street to him.

That wasn’t true at all, of course, but they had to restart for a while. God, it was hard. How was he supposed to do that, pretend he hadn’t been mourning the whole time he was gone? There were so many little things he did automatically, like making fun of Dan’s clothes, or reaching to fix his friend’s fringe, or trying to steal food from his plate. Little things he had to stop himself doing, or started to do before they both flinched back.

They returned to the internet with no explanation, which was always going to raise questions, more so when it was complimented by their lack of communication and stiffness at the mention of the other. Theories were all over the place, none right, but some hitting too close to home. ‘The Return of 2012’, some were calling it.

Phil had to smile at that one, albeit bitterly. As of late, he had practically been reliving that. Well, some people did think the past repeated itself, that it was all circling around. God, maybe Phil was a planet and Dan was his Sun, and he was stuck orbiting around him, getting closer and closer only to have to pull away when he would prefer to crash into Dan, even if that killed all the tiny alien people on him.

There was a word for this he knew, had seen it once: aphelion. This- the past few weeks- was Phil at aphelion, furthest away from his Dan. Now, all he could do was wait until Dan pulled him closer.

***

Tentative. All of this was tentative. Hesitant jokes, laughs a beat too late, uncertain hands hovering in front of those which shook, fingers uncurling, searching for comfort before giving up. There were times when it flowed, when their words wove around each other and they once again fitted together, falling back into place for a second or a conversation, before a step too close or a slow response knocked them awry all over again.

Dan was conflicted, Phil could tell. He went between giving fond smiles and bumping shoulders with Phil to shying away from every touch, sometimes whispering an apology as he withdrew to his room.

On one of the first days after Dan’s return, Phil had ended up crowding against him as he reached past him for a mug. It had been one of the moments when he had forgotten, thinking nothing of how close it would make him. The same could not be said for Dan, who shifted further back into the counter, turning his head to the side.

As soon as he noticed how uncomfortable he was making Dan, Phil took three wide steps away, lifting his mug to demonstrate his reasoning. Dan glanced down, then nodded. It might make it worse if he addressed it, might have been better if he had just left it alone and tried forget, but he harboured enough guilt.

“Sorry,” he said.

Dan shook his head, offered a strained laugh as weak reassurance. “Don’t worry.”

“Yeah.” They stood like that until Dan cleared his throat.

“Anyway. I was going to head to my room.”

“Yeah!” Phil agreed, rushing to move to the side, so Dan could pass him and leave.

They didn’t talk for the rest of the day, and it was probably for the best.

***

The closer moments were what Phil craved. Dan, allowing them to sit almost thigh-to-thigh, listening and humming contently as Phil walked him through his day. Part of Phil wished they could be chatting like this with Dan’s head on his lap, Phil massaging Dan’s scalp, admiring the softness of Dan’s face, the occasional freckle dotted over his skin. He could lose himself in these ideals.

The first time Phil felt like he was truly going to get back what he and Dan had once had, it was when Dan shouted his name across the house, the same beckoning, exasperated tone as he so often used. After knowing Dan this long, he felt relatively sure Dan could communicate any sentence through saying ‘Phil’ and nothing else.

Unlike when Dan approached him, silent, lips tugged down at the corners, the shout was a comfort. He didn’t dread what would follow, only returned it with a distracted, “Yeah?” as he began to make his way towards the source. Years of living with Dan and attempting to call conversations between different rooms had taught him it was a fruitless effort. It would only ever end with one giving in and finding the other, or texting each other instead.

Dan looked unimpressed, shutting off his phone and putting it back in his pocket when he saw Phil. “What have you survived on lately?” he asked, an eyebrow raised.

Knowing that Dan was going to complain about the lack of food, Phil gave an innocent smile and shrugged. “… Cereal? Take-outs?”

Dan huffed. “I’ve been back five days and at no point have I seen any half-decent food in this house,” he said, giving Phil’s arm a light knock with his fist.

Phil made a noise of protest, returning the weak assault. “Well, you could’ve bought something, y’know. Or you could go out and get something now.”

Dan groaned. “Ugh, outside. I can’t be bothered, cereal is good enough.”

With a roll of his eyes, Phil shook his head. “No, c’mon, we’re both going out,” he decided, ignoring the clench of his stomach when he found himself worrying that Dan would refuse even such an innocent invitation to do something together.

His worries were quickly quelled as Dan whined, but moved to get his coat. “Fine.”

***

It was domestic. Dan pushed the trolley, strolling around and berating Phil as he tried to convince Dan to buy more sweets. They chatted and joked, Phil complained that being lactose intolerant had ruined his life, and Dan was both sympathetic and insulting. Nothing new, but something that hadn’t happened in a while.

In fact, it must have been at least a couple of weeks since Phil had gone to the shop for more than just milk, cereal, and snacks. Making food was hard when you didn’t care at all, and meals for one felt pointless. Even now Dan was back, they hadn’t eaten together for any real food to be necessary.

As the first time they had eaten together since falling out, Phil had to be impressed by the lack of uncomfortable pauses. Even without anything to distract from the other’s presence, they ended up managing a real conversation. It was stilted, to an extent. Phil kept on wanting to apologise, but knowing it would only break the mood. Dan kept giving Phil looks like there was something he wanted to say, then bringing up an entirely new subject.

Not perfect, but something.

***

They spoke more after that. As with everything, it wasn’t at the same level as before, and it would take time, but Phil was tired of having to constantly remind himself that, yes, things were imperfect, but he had gotten himself here. No matter how accepting he was of that fact, it got old when he was having to think about it every day, several times a day.

One thing they were very much not okay with was touching. It made sense, of course. With Dan, it was always the first thing to go and the last thing to come back. When he was embarrassed, angry, pretending he wasn’t upset, withdrawn, or anything else. He would pull away from Phil physically before he stopped talking to him, and they would always be comfortable talking long before they touched again. He was used to it, but never on this level.

Or, yes, on this level, but he liked to avoid thinking about the year in which they were falling apart, using duct tape and safety pins to hold their friendship together. It was made difficult by the similarities, but he tried, nonetheless.

It was late, and Dan mustn’t have slept much, because he was drifting asleep as they re-watched the first Alien movie. He was slumped over, gradually slipping towards Phil with his mouth half-open. Part of Phil wondered if waking him up, or giving him a push towards the other side, would be the polite thing to do.

But he could count on one hand how many times they had touched since Dan started living here again, and it had always just been a pat or a nudge, brushing as they passed in the hall. Maybe it made Phil selfish, but the warmth and closeness was better than avoiding the unease when Dan woke up to discover his head resting in the crook of Phil’s neck.

***

Over the month in which Dan had been back, things had been making their way towards normality. They had filmed the Phil Is Not On Fire, let the sharpie fumes excuse the touching and staring. Phil had always loved filming videos with Dan, but he appreciated it more now than he had before. Being able to act normal again for a while, to forget any boundaries for the sake of the internet- it was an escape Phil had been wishing for. This was a tradition. They couldn’t make another where they were too distant, the fans pointing it out and using it as part of their 2012 theories, so it made sense to sit too close, always touching or staring at the other.

Those two hours allowed them to relax, and even after they finished filming, they didn’t go back to how it was before. Phil couldn’t claim they were what they had been- they still didn’t quite touch, reserved- but some of it was back. If nothing else, Dan didn’t flinch when their knees bumped together on the couch, and Phil could feel Dan’s curious gaze as they ate dinner. Dan didn’t even glanced when Phil caught him in the act, only offered a soft smile before he returned to eating. This was them, almost what they had been.

Perhaps Phil should have known it was too good to be true, that they wouldn’t remain that way. The next day, he didn’t even see Dan until it was afternoon. In and of itself, that wasn’t unusual. Dan slept late, and even before all of this, he had liked his space sometimes. After the way he had been acting the previous day, Phil couldn’t help but correlate them in his mind. Dan must have gotten stuck in the part of ‘Danisnotonfire, AmazingPhil’s best friend’, forgotten that they were supposed to be distant. Now, he was making up for it, reminding Phil that, no, they were not okay, not yet.

A couple of Phil Is Not On Fire-related tweets were exchanged, Dan’s typical existentialism and Phil’s typical weirdness. Of course, Phil hoped the tweets were made for their own sake, to joke around together on the internet, but he wasn’t quite foolish enough to be sure. Phil couldn’t always tell what was for them and what was for the fans, and it was always safest to assume the latter.

When Dan finally left his room, appearing in the kitchen as Phil poured himself another cup of coffee, Phil couldn’t help but let his brow crease. Dan was fiddling with loose threads, staying on the opposite side of the room. It felt like a month’s progress undone, back to this awkward hovering, too polite to ask the other to just leave.

But Phil knew that, if he was here, he must want something. Otherwise, he would have instead slipped away until Phil was somewhere else. As he always did when Dan was nervous, Phil let Dan start the conversation in his own time, slowly swirling sugar into his drink. Neither spoke for at least a minute, Phil only keeping up a half-hearted pretense of purpose, having finished making his coffee not long after Dan entered the room.

Phil had just taken a sip when Dan rushed at him, collapsing into Phil’s embrace, head falling onto Phil’s shoulder. Instinctively, Phil put down his coffee and clutched Dan tight to him.

The problem with not being able to touch Dan was that it made him feel unreal, like all the time he had known Dan was just some beautiful fantasy. Being unable to hold him, and hardly talking to him- it was excruciating. Losing Dan was one of the hardest things he had done, and this, the hug, felt like protection. It felt like safety and normality and, damn, Phil had missed all of this, and he couldn’t wipe the tears from his eyes because he didn’t want to let go of Dan in case he disappeared.

If the damp patch on his neck was anything to go by, Dan was in the same state as him. Phil closed his eyes and rested his forehead on Dan’s hair, something he wasn’t often able to do now Dan was taller than him. Deep breaths of Dan’s scent calmed him down, the few tears that had formed slipping away and drying in the minutes they stood there. Phil’s arms ached, but it only encouraged him to hold Dan closer.

“Fuck, Phil, what you did was shitty and it fucking sucks so much, but I need you and I’ve missed you and I’m in love with you anyway, Phil Lester, so let’s just hug. I forgive you,” Dan said, his voice getting rough.

God, no, Phil couldn’t handle this. All the guilt from what he had done would take a long time to fade away, and he was sure Dan would still hurt, but he was too damn happy. Right now, he somewhere between grinning and sobbing into Dan’s hair. Aphelion was over. This was Phil at perihelion, and his thoughts had left his body, ascended to some sort of weird thought-heaven. He was left, speechless, struggling for words. Speaking didn’t come easily to him, but he let whatever had been weighing his mind roll off his tongue, an apology and a confession.

“I’m so sorry, Dan, thank you so much for forgiving me. You mean the world to me, I love you.” Phil’s voice was choked. He need to remember to inhale, pressing a soft kiss into Dan’s hair before the other man pulled away to look Phil in the eyes.

“Thank fuck, I’ve missed you too damn much, Phil,” Dan sighed, using the pretense of running his hands through his hair to wipe the tears from his eyes. “God, Phil, can we just lie down for a while and catch up with American Horror Story?”

Phil laughed, still sounding wet. “Let’s watch that ‘til we’re forced to move for food or something.”

Dan nodded, and Phil felt like Dan’s gravity had finally became too much for him, overpowering him, and now Dan was consuming him. It wasn’t at all bad or painful; it was nothing more than entwining himself in Dan’s warm arms. Phil was just tired and too damn happy.


	2. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heY so someone asked abt a sequel n i was like 'fuck ye i guess so????' n here it is!!!! smth to fix the ambiguity of the previous ending!!!

The year since Dan had found out his relationship with Phil was a lie had been tough. No matter the reason behind it, no matter Phil’s intent, he let it happen. It was a terrible thing to do, and not something Phil could ever forgive himself for. Without fail, remembering made him feel sick.

Dan said he forgave Phil. How, Phil couldn’t understand, at first. He would torture himself by repeating the events over and over in his mind, imagining himself in Dan’s position: the trust, the love, followed by the betrayal, the fear. Phil had cried too many times thinking about it. Usually, he was not someone who was easily brought to tears.

It was only after months of thinking that he truly understood it.

No matter what Dan did, he would forgive him. Well, perhaps that statement didn’t quite extend to murder, but it covered a hell of a lot of things. Phil had left Dan in a position in which all of his options boiled down to this: he refused to forgive Phil (with reason) and harboured resentment towards his ex-best friend for most likely the rest of his life, or he let it go and made a new start.

It was difficult to comprehend that this feeling could go both ways, not because Phil was very insecure these days, but because his love for Dan, though it was tested at times, was bone deep. He had relied on Dan as a best friend and a supporter for years, and living without him was incomprehensible. Phil was likeable enough, sure, but he forgot that people- Dan, namely- felt the same overwhelming, choking love towards him.

So, they forgave and forgot. Phil never got over his own actions, but he thought about it less, stopped bringing it up when he realised that, despite only wanting to make his regret abundantly clear, he was doing nothing but reminding Dan of the hurt and punishing himself more than necessary.

It had seemed, as Dan had tearily admitted to Phil that, regardless of what Phil had done, they both needed each other, that all was back to normal. A new normal, sure, but one in which they loved each other, and could kiss each other and both mean it, neither of them guilty, neither of them deceived. In Dan’s arms, watching TV, he had tricked himself into thinking it had all become okay.

Of course, that was not true.

For the first couple of months, their relationship was unstable. Any time Phil even jokingly told Dan he loved him, Dan would close off and pull away. Equally, there were moments when Dan would grin up and him, open his mouth as if to speak, then snap it closed and take a step back. It seemed as if he was reminding himself, revising the hurt he had gone through. After those times, it would often take hours for the mood to recover. Everyone around them suffered for it.

That didn’t mean they hadn’t still kissed during those months. They had. In everything but those moments in which Dan avoided love confessions, they acted like they were in a relationship.

Most nights, they would share a bed. In the morning, whoever woke up first would kiss the other’s face, reverent and sweet, despite the sleepy protests of whoever was being awoken. They held hands and sat too close together on the couch. It was painfully loving, but each time Phil tried to voice this to Dan, he was shot down and shut out.

At around the four month mark, it had become too much. He hadn’t quite shouted, but his voice had been loud and firm, frustrated from a lack of control and increasing confusion.

“You can’t act like we’re dating then get mad at me everytime I try to tell you I love you! Dan, I know I _really_  messed up, and I would do pretty much anything to change that, but we haven’t invented time machines yet. I’m not going to let you keep doing this to me just because I think I don’t deserve you, so I let you do whatever you want to me. Either you want to be in a relationship with me, or you tell me that you want us just to be friends.”

Dan had crumpled as Phil confronted him. “Fuck, Phil, I’m sorry. I know I’m being an asshole, I’m clinging onto what you did too much. Like, yeah, sure, it fucking hurt, but it’s happened. I always talk about letting go of negativity and trying to be happy, but look at me. What am I doing?” He sighed, and seemed to consider his next words for a long time.

“I’m sorry for pulling away when you try to say you love me. I mean, I tell myself I’m doing it because I’m still afraid, but I trust you too much for that. I know that- at least in part- I want you to hurt for it, but I _know_  you’re already hurting, and I’m causing pain that I don’t need to cause. For me, as well as you. So… can we like, be in a real relationship? One where I tell you that I love you?”

Phil grinned, then channelled an intense look of puzzled consideration. “Hmmmmm,” he drew out, tapping his chin. Dan was already groaning and telling him to fuck off as he said, “I suppose we can. And that I love you, too.”

Dan put on a look of disinterest. “Yeah, I know.”

Phil punched him. “Oh, shut up, Anakin!”

Jerking back, Dan gave him a look of horror.

“Wait, no! I know that’s Han and Leia! Shut up, I know, I know it’s Han and Leia, I don’t know why I said that.”

His insistence was in vain. Dan was speaking over him, loudly proclaiming his disgust and his inability to respect Phil.

“Fuck, Phil, we only just got this whole relationship sorted out! I can’t believe I have to break up with you already, but if you don’t understand my Star Wars references…”

The conversation had quickly descended into chaos, but it felt like the biggest step they had made in a long time. Both of them let go of their ill-will, realised that their behaviour was unhealthy for both of them. Phil had allowed it because he felt gifted to have Dan in any context, even if he was, unintentionally or not, playing around with Phil. He had only confronted it due to a sudden spark of injured defiance, but he was pleased. It had gotten them somewhere better.

Problems still arose in their relationship, but for different reasons. It was a bad day and Phil didn’t order enough takeaway for Dan when he came home. Dan ignored Phil because he was too busy in his own mind. Phil went out without locking the door. Dan shouted at Phil for dropping a glass. They were their usual arguments, but in the fresh context of their relationship, they became harder to deal with. Any one of them could spell the end of the relationship, now: friendships felt so much less fragile.

They got through them, apologised or talked it out, understood each other to forgive. When one of them got insecure, worried they were talking less, or the other was regretting deciding to make the move from friendship to relationship, they discussed it instead of bottling it up. Phil assured Dan that he would never regret it, had always pictured it being the two of them, no one else, right until the end. Dan made sure Phil knew it was being swamped with work and stress and expectations that made him less talkative, not anything personal.

They sorted through it.

Gradually, giddily, Phil watched them grow even closer. It wasn’t always clear that they were growing more comfortable, not when it was compared day by day, but he looked back to a year ago and saw blinding change.

At the start of their relationship- the fake one, the one Phil hated thinking about- Dan had hidden parts of himself from Phil. When he was harbouring a secret like years worth of romantic feelings, he had to keep a certain level of distance to keep them under wraps. He avoided talking about sexuality, or people he was attracted to, or even past relationships. They had discussed it plenty, since they had mended their relationships, and Phil managed to piece together the parts of Dan he had been missing.

A year ago, Dan shied away from revealing his sexuality to their fans, always bringing up concerns of how people would treat it like a confirmation of their relationship. Though they still elected not to explicitly share their relationship, Dan spoke about his attraction to various genders, no longer tensed up when people suggested he might be gay. Instead, he laughed, made a teasing comment like, “Not quite gay, but you’re getting warmer.”

They moved to a new apartment, still giving off the outward appearance of separate rooms, but they fell asleep in the same bed every night, though the room they slept in varied. Pieces of Phil had migrated to Dan’s room and vice versa.

They woke up together. Sometimes, Phil would press kisses into Dan’s bare skin as they were both regaining consciousness. They would exchange casual, mumbled _'l_ _ove you'_ s as they stretched out. They would tangle their fingers together, lean on each other when they shared a couch, but never anything disgustingly cute. Too much sweetness felt forced, after so many years of a teasing, friendly relationship.

In the end, dating Dan- really dating him- wasn’t too different from being his best friend. A little more touch, less clothes sometimes, but the same jokes and understanding and comfort. The same feeling of safety and security, which they had finally rebuilt.

They were two years into their relationship and it had just turned noon. It was another lazy day (they were too common, but Phil enjoyed them too much to point that out), and Dan was sprawled out over Phil, his cheek smushed against Phil’s chest. Both of them were on their phones, silent but relaxed in the other’s presence.

Truth be told, Phil wasn’t taking in any of the tweets he was scrolling through. He was in his thoughts, mentally making his way through the entirety of their relationship, remembering all of the places it could have gone wrong or something could have been different. Even with all the mistakes, he was happy.

He put his phone down to see Dan looking up at him.

“Do I look good from that angle?” he asked, poking Dan’s cheek.

Dan batted his hand away and gave him an unimpressed look. “Yeah, Phil. You look just… so good. Finally found your angle.”

“The search is over.”

Dan smiled at him and put his phone on the bedside table. “What were you thinking about there? Saw you scrolling but your eyes weren’t moving.”

“Such a detective,” he joked, but paused before telling him. “I was just remembering everything that’s happened between us. I’m pleased this is where we are now. I’m happy with all of this- you know, with us.”

The tone became softer, more serious but not in a tense way. Dan sat up. “I can’t picture us not being in each other’s lives. When I imagine being some old man, like, waving his cane at some kids or something, I always imagine you being there. I mean, I don’t want to sound _gay_ or anything,” he scoffed, trying to lighten the emotion with a joke, “but I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Kids, dogs, a house, if we can ever afford one in this economy- the whole shebang.”

The things Dan listed were everything Phil thought of when he imagined his future, but it was a relief to hear them voiced by Dan. “Are you saying you want to marry me?” If Dan acted surprised or disturbed by the question, Phil would play it off as a joke.

“Not right now. I still feel too young, even though all our friends are married. But I want you to know that I see us like that, like we’re going to get married one day.”

Not a proposal. Not anything set in stone. A promise that, one day, they would be all of those things that they had both wanted for so long. Phil was happy with that. God, he was very happy with that.

**Author's Note:**

> i saw someone comment on the tumblr version of this abt whether they r together at the end??? n reading back the last scene its kinda vague but yup its intended to be them tentatively taking the first steps into a real relationship


End file.
